jumble of junk.

One thing you may not know about me is that I'm semi-obsessed with and love the Duggars. That giant 21-person sized family with the long hair and long skirts? They fascinate me and are delightful. So I've watched past seasons of their show, read their first book, and I'm currently reading their second book "A love that multiplies". Early on in their marriage, Jim-Bob and Michelle Duggar used oral contraceptives and planned on having between 1 and 3 kids. They had their first child, and decided to wait a few years and use oral contraceptives before going for another one. Apparently, during this time Michelle got pregnant, and due to the use of birth control pills, she incidentally miscarried. This devastated the couple, and prompted their decision to leave family planning up to God. They decided to let contraception go and leave it to God whether they would become pregnant or not. 20 or so years later, they have 19 children. What's amazing about this isn't the sheer size of the family. Michelle, Jim-Bob, and the little people they have created exude happiness, self-assurance, brightness, intelligence, and well-mannered good ole' fashioned wholesomness. A beautiful testament and feat in this world for any size family. Despite the size of the family, they are the most optimistic, positive, genuine people in the media today. The children are well-fed, bright, well mannered, happy, funny, playful, and seemingly well adjusted. They are all talented musically, and all have their own sense of aspiration and ambition for the future. They aren't unthinkably rich, but they are provided for and do not want. They manage money wisely. Despite the untraditional size and extremely conservative values, there doesn't seem to be any funny business, any weird creepy cultish scary dark undertones to this family. Compare the Duggars to other untraditional families in the media: Jon and Kate plus 8? divorce, trauma, tabloids. The Sister Wives? They had to move their brood of half-brothers and half-sisters to a new state to avoid being incarcerated, and the children seem deeply distressed. The Duggars attribute all their success to God.

I'm a fairly liberal person when it comes to religion. I tend to have feelings of suspicion, discomfort, and bitterness towards extremely conservative or "fundamentalist" points of view. There is a history of pain and injustice there. (Which can be said for any religious tradtion). This is an instinct I am actually working on overcoming so as to be an open-minded person in all aspects. But, based on appearances, one might assume I would be put-off by some of the Duggar's life choices and convictions: they take the Bible very literally, and therefore the women do not cut their hair, they only wear long skirts, they wear "wholesome" bathing suits that cover the body from the knees to the elbows, they have conviction against birth control, they do not date or kiss until "I Do", they adamattly do not acknowledge evolutionary sciences, they don't dance, they don't drink, and they are constantly dishing out Bible verses for every occasion. A scene like this would typically make me raise my eyebrows.

But these people are so cool. They have an unending source of optimism, hope, peace, strength, endurance, and enthusiasm. When faced with challenges and adversity, they are creative and perservere. They are incredibly kind and warm hearted. Despite the severe extremes of their personal convictions, they don't ever seem judgemental or preachy towards anyone with differing points of view. They don't write "God says birth control is evil and therefore thou shalt not use it!", they say, "for our family, we came to the conclusion that all children are a blessing, and so we felt that meant to leave it up to God"... they speak from their own experience and point of view, rather than imposing their experiences, choices, and points of views on others as a universal truth. And yet, they never shy away from expressing their convictions and Christian status. They focus their attention on helping others, making mission trips as a family each year to El Salvador, as well as countless other altrusitic daily activities. Perhaps it is what Christianity is meant to be... (not neccessarily the skirts and no dancing) but the focus on helping other people and being warm and kind and trying to do what they percieve as right-- meditating on what what is right. Even though I find some of their practices a little kooky, they are genuine and authentic. I find myself wanting to be like them. I honestly think their family is a ministry of sorts, even if they aren't trying to make it so.

One reason I desire "starting a family" is from the Duggars' tele-influence in my life! It sounds silly that a reality TV show would cause me to think so much about "deep life". But Oh Well! Michelle never raises her voice, she thinks creatively to come up with positive ways to raise her kids and instill sound values in them, and it looks like a blast. The Duggars' homeschool, and if I were ever to actually do that it would require loads more research, but it does look fun! The more I contemplate the reality of having children, the more I want to raise them in a "Christian home"... going to church and such. I write on this blog all my doubts, my wonderings, my uncertainties and my issues with the long-lived-long-loved-overloaded look at "Religion/Spirituality/Christianity/ECT", but to exist without honesty and without room to express these things would be suffocating. I believe it can all co-exist. And if a faith full of certainty is ever the goal, it won't be achieved by just faking it. In any case, my experience being raised Christian was completely positive. It imbedded in me a compass of goodness, stability, and altruism. Plus it was fun. Even if I'm not being good, feeling unstable, and being selfish, I can at some point come to recognize that and seek to change because I've seen and heard and learned of opposite. Even though not all religious people act morally, Religion, or, as I must try to speak from my own experience, Christianity, seeks to instill Morality. Whether or not it gets properly installed, or whether it's in working order in one's own life is a whole other story. I would want the deep messages of Christianity for my kids. Even though "christianity" fails some people, and unspeakable acts of evil are conducted in its name, unspeakable acts of evil can also be conducted in other names, and I don't think "Christianity" itself is the cause of the unspeakable acts of evil. Christopher Hitchens, RIP, was a great and passionate thinker, but this is one fundamental point where we completely disagree.

In any case, in order to raise a family I have to be in good working condition. To be able to answer hard questions, instill a faith, lead a child, and relieve another's anxiety, I've got to have my ducks in a row. Perhaps that's what all this existentialism is all about. It's my biological, emotional, and intellectual response of the growing reality of soon having children. I've been trying to get my body to a place to deliver children, which means for me being sans-medication, and the past few days that goal has been extremely challenging, violently so. For whatever reason, I want to have kids. So I want to be ready to "leave it up to God" as the Duggars say. I hear from most people that you can "never be truly ready". That makes me feel better. It's good to hear no one else is perfect, and that no one else has ducks perfectly in a row. Then I don't feel so hopeless! The Duggars seem like an "imperfectly perfect" freaky family, but they're all just humans doing the good fight.

The Duggars, and how I want to adopt some of their ways: I simply can't be completely like them. It wouldn't be genuine of me to grow my hair out and stop dancing and wear a long skirt and disregard the theory of evolution. I can't just imitate it and, voila, I'm a transformed mortal. But the Duggars seem to earnestly search for purpose, meaning, truth, light, love, and peace. I am glad for them that they find these ideals in the Bible, in Christianity, and through their lifestyle choices.

I do think, though, that the earnest searching of my own might reveal different interpretations of not only how to live life and wear my hair, but what I hear through the Bible. Could one be wrong and one be right?

I personally don't quite think so. I can't honestly say I believe that there is "One" essential "Truth". Except that maybe the "one essential Truth" is the search for Truth itself. If "One Essential Truth" does "exist", it's got to be a bigger notion than the one implied on the giant billboard off the side of a Missouri highway in the Bible belt, glaring down at passerby's with condemnation and judgement. A search for truth must involve, I suppose, clarification on what the word truth means. I find this word Truth to be misleading because for me it conjures up images of "right and wrong", sin and blessing, heaven and hell, in or out-- a tool for segregation, separation, and division. Truth can be attributed to the "correct" interpretation of a verse, a bible, a religion. I think this type of truth is a diversion from what the idea can actually embody. I feel that Truth might mean something more like the word "authenticity". A mix of emotional honesty, bravery, searching, and peace. If Truth can't mean this, than maybe Truth just isn't that important. If "Truth" doesn't come hand in hand with Peace and Love, than what good does it do? If I must "accept" or "believe" a certain event in history as a factual occurence, or declare a line from a book as the one set of words that can eternally determine the state of one's soul, then accepting or believing it won't do me any good if I'm not at peace with that conviction, and if there is no meaning found in how that line or how that event can actually change my life here and now for the greater good.

I would rather not give a hoot about what happens after death, as I might spend all my time looking past all the wonders of the present world for something that could just as well be complete nothingness. However, just as humankind has deliberated throughout all of its species history on the mystery of death, I too am not immune to that aspect of the human condition. It seems unavoidable that part of life involves the imagination about and at times, fear of, death. And since there is no way I can "know" what comes post death anymore than anyone else can in any quantifiable way, I do see I have a choice in the matter as to what I prefer to imagine. I think humans are fairly lucky and it is a trait of survival to believe death can possibly lead to eternal heaven, peace, nirvana, moksha, whatever. Perhaps there is a more mysterious, God-given reason as to why humans have perceived a metaphysical reality inside and outside the realm of "this" life. I personally do think so. I wonder if conciously choosing to imagine heaven after death or "believing in" heaven are terribly different? I think there's some cross-over there, as what we choose to believe can shape our attitudes and become a deeper part of us. If I'm upset, but choose to not yell and instead calmly express my emotion, that calm may wash over the upsettness and chemically change it to a sense of understanding. In the same way, if I choose to address the mystery of death with a vision of peace in heaven, perhaps that deep contentedness will infiltrate my being and be more than the answer to a multiple choice question. Whether one comes to this conclusion through conscious choice or through a sense of deep conviction or by God communicating it to them personally... does it matter? Maybe. I'm not sure.

reflections, certainties, doubts

"to make an apple pie from scratch, you must first create the universe" -Carl Sagan

From the onset of this blog, I intended to use it as a way to practice academic writing and organize my thoughts on things I was studying. While that is still something I hope to do with it, I find myself more and more wishing to write from the heart, voicing personal reflections, wonderings, certainties, and doubts-- all which occupy my mind on a deeper level. Not just that the axial age was a time when multiple independent civilizations changed in fundamental ways regarding self-consciousness, but why, and why that is worth thinking about and uncovering now, and what it might mean for me or human kind. I find myself wanting not to report, but to reflect. So why not allow it to be? In my "welcome back" blog post, I said something about not wanting to "trap down" my "beliefs" but rather explore the questions. I have been thinking about this statement, and trying to figure out if it is true. I am a natural explorer. My search for meaning is ongoing, and feels insatiable. I've wondered, then, if that means I am constantly trying to define my worldview. What I think is: yes and no. Yes, I feel that we are all constantly defining our worldview (whether we try to or not, whether we are conscious of it or not). We encounter information and experiences, and reflect on what it means to us, and how we understand it. The No part is reacting to my words "trapping down". I am constantly changing, as is the world around me. To trap down a "belief system" into a box of untouchable certainty does not feel as important or real for me as the curiosity and questions that lead us to our next journey, and temporary destinations. I percieve that there are core values and tendencies in myself, and those are revealed to me time and again. The smaller, detail oriented curiosities are a novel bunch to consider and pontificate, but in a way, each situation requires a whole new evaluation of the universe. In a split second I am confronted with life and concoct a response based on innate values, my education thus far, my experience, my biology even. And in that second I am unaware of any of this. It is a rush of wordless whispers to my brain, my limbs, my lips, and small constant decisions and evaluations. This seems to be the nature of life's activity: a process. So I don't wish to come to set conclusions about all the mysteries of the universe. That seems a silly goal. And yet, it is what I ponder most. What might I believe, and what then is belief? Conviction? Certainty? Doubt? They are all beautiful and terrifying.

Ozymandias Reflection

Ozymandias
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in a desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands strech far away.

I love this poem for it's "wonders of the world" archeologist feeling and imagery. It reminds me how all people and places of great power fall, and reveal that power is really nothing at all but a building and building of perceptions, which can vanish in the sand. All that remains are crumbling stern faces of command, which to the future onlooker, are comical and sad in the irony of hindsight. It reminds me that there is not much value in treasure and power-- they carry a weak legacy. I find it interesting how overtly past rulers asserted dominance. A giant sculpture of an kings face, walls of frilly castles lined with portraits (employing the 'airbrushing' techniques of the day), and tall town stelaes outlining every imposing rule and code. Power nowadays seems more covert. Or maybe it's not... maybe the form of our self-promotion has just shifted from imposing statues to manipulative commercials. Maybe we're less ruled upon and more brainwashed within.

great big gig in the sky

I assume many Christians would take offense with the way I interpret the religion. I know many Christians would not consider me to be one. I am sure the nature of my beliefs and convictions at the least make many people squirm. I am sure of this because some convictions of others indeed make me squirm myself. It is an ongoing debate, Theological Correctness. One Great Collossal Truth we might all share is that we make each other uncomfortable. Lots of Jesus' fellow Jews jived with what he tried to say, and lots of them were quite incensed by it to the point of wishing and requesting him dead. And on it goes with every society and their respective Great Prophets. There is nothing so human as conflict, and it seems to me one source of peace can be agreeing to disagree. In my opinion to say something as fantastical as eternal life is at stake, and the fulcrum point between tipping up to a heaven or tipping down to a hell is by the profession of agreement with one point or another is quite a human notion.

I was considering the passion of the Christ, or in other words, the suffering of the Christ, and what it means to me now in this moment. Although I may have ideas or inclinations or opinions on the subject of "literalism" in the bible, I feel these opinions are fairly irrelevant to what the story written in the bible may mean. By mean, I don't mean "what it truly implies. Could it ever be just one thing or two? But in what may have been a routine crucifiction by cross for Romans really seemed special to a few Jews. It's special-ness continues to take on significance for all sorts of people all throughout time. At a time when waking from the dead was not completely unheard of, some folks did seem to think it was a very different and significant grave abandonment this time around with Jesus involved. I know this because so many people discussed their perceptions about it, and eventually those perceptions were written down.

But what I perceive in this moment is that a force called God offers a comfort so supreme that it's painful to even think about, and therefore quite difficult to accept. I don't think the physical "suffering" of death by cross is really as bad as an almost-magical "taking on" of all the psychological pain and discomfort and sadness of all people all across the world or maybe even universe throughout all time as we know it. In Mel Gibson's Passion of the Christ movie, I loved how bloody and gory the trip to death was displayed. I cringed at the thought of having those gashes made across my back and along my side. Ow. But I can barely stand to cringe and think about the deep pain I know I've felt at times, multiplied by all infinity. This pain all being not just accepted and heard by another, but taken on to a point past empathy that I'll never see. The gaping wounds in all our hearts and all the embarrassment, self-loathing, evil, conniving, manipulating, barking, depressed, worried, desolate darkness lurking in every moment of isolation-- i imagine it all being accepted by God. God sits with it, quietly, calmly, dead ahead eye to eye and not just allows it to be, but accepts it and in a freaky way maybe loves it. I imagine this through the story of Jesus' death and ressurection. I see it as a story about a hero sucking up all the sadness and by acknowledging it and letting it exist, it loses the fundamental power to destroy, and instead the magical love-force grace-ness fills in the gaps with what makes life so worth living that we all procreate so damn much to the point of overpopulation. It's an unbelievable feat, rising again each morning after the terror of a nightmare.

I see in my memory the face of my grandpa as he was walked down the center church aisle, with his sons on each arm, and his metal cane, a leg for the left one he didn't have working. His mouth was paralyzed in place, a jaw hinged open, as if to attempt inhaling the moment and reality physically as it can barely be accepted or comprehended by mind alone. It was a white face surrounding the hole of his mouth, a dark abyss. He was walking into the funeral of his wife. Whatever pain was inside him, taking over his face and freezing his mouth so as ingest or escape, I can barely stand to conjure up in memory. I think about the recent sudden death of a healthy, happy mid-life man, and the sweet family left to endless stages of grief. I think about my sister's life-long friend who suffered so intensely with an illness that caused her to starve herself to death. It's disgusting to even write my memories of these atrocities down, but they just flash through my head-- an instant of pain or perhaps just a pinch of it or the fear of it-- a flash. And then I picture this Thing called God, if it's all knowing, having not just the facts of tragedy but the voices of it's aftermath calling out in screaching pain, and the Thing is strong enough to withstand it all and sprinkle enough goodness in that we all laugh at some time. The death and suffering and psychosis doesn't really destroy. I mean, it does destroy. But it co-exists with other things like laughing. I don't know what the f*k the pain means and why the hell the tragedies must go on. But I'm picturing something sitting with them all. Like a big perfect therapist in an immortal sky nodding neutrally to the dark subconscious of Man, unbiased and non-judgemental to the sins and sadnesses that may be. This I find comforting and maybe even transforming. And it's an idea I got from the whole "Jesus-story".